I'll Always Love You
by Insanity Studios Ink
Summary: I love you, do you love me? No matter how long it takes, I'll wait for you. I'll always love you. Warnings for child abuse and character death. OOC Alex/Young Alex


_Hello readers, welcome to my newest_ Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard _fanfiction. I'm not going to say much about it, only that I think it may be a bit of a tear-jerker._

 _OOC Alex/Very Young Alex. Warnings for child abuse._

~~oo00oo~~

Five-year-old Alex Fierro looked up at his father, crying. One hand cupped his stinging cheek, the other tightly wrapped around his legs as he attempted to make himself into an even smaller ball.

His father left, leaving the small child to sob quietly in the dark room poisoned by the violence it was witness to. The boy's face was tormented, he eyes that brimmed with tears a window to his soul filled with shattered hopes.

Why? Why didn't his father love him? Those cold eyes held no affection, no love for the small child he was supposed to nurture and protect. His voice held no admiration, no care. It was as cold as the heart in his chest.

Alex could not understand it, but it didn't ever stop him from loving the man. He loved his father more than he could ever hope to express, how could Alex not? The man was his father, and no amount of beating or neglect would ever change that in the young child's eyes.

But he never received any love in return. Instead of hugs, there were slaps and punches. Empty cupboards and desolate shelves replaced the home-cooked meals, or even meals at all, that other children received. Alex got harsh words and bellowed jibes that cut him deeper than any knife could, rather than words of love and pride.

And through all of it, he still loved the man. He still hoped that one day, his father would hug him, kiss him, and tell him that he loved him.

Slowly the soft crying subsided, and Alex picked himself off the ground and quietly went to his room. The barren walls glared back, unwelcoming and cold. A cheap bed was pushed in the corner, with a drawer set that had seen better days for his clothes.

As the child sat on the stiff mattress, something seemed to switch. Alex felt something shift, maybe inside his brain, maybe in his body. He couldn't tell what was going on, but it scared him. He jumped up, looking in the mirror. A girl stared back. Nothing was different; the face, the clothes, and the body was the exact same it was a minute ago, but now, the image was clearly a girl.

Alex stared at her reflexion for a long time, until she realized she was refering to herself as a girl, as well as using female pronouns. So that was it, then. Alex Fierro now was a girl.

An idea appeared in her head. Her father didn't love her as his son, maybe he would love her as his daughter. Maybe he wanted a girl, instead of a boy.

Hope flared in her chest, making her heart leap. Finally, she thought she understood. Her father would love her, as she loved him. He would tell her that he was proud of her, and he loved her very much. He would tuck her in, and kiss her goodnight. All she had to do was become a girl, and her father would love her.

Her father would love her.

The next day, after her kindergarten class was dismissed, instead of walking home like she usually would, she walked into town. She knew there was a second-hand shop that had a nice dress in the window, one that would let her be the daughter she thought her father had always wanted.

The bell jingled cheerfully as she opened the door, the quiet murmuring of shoppers putting the child at ease. The dress was there, glowing in the afternoon sunlight. She reached for it, but wasn't quite tall enough.

"Excuse me, could you help me?"

The lady at the register looked at her kindly. "Yes, dear?"

"Could you get this dress down for me, please?"

The lady smiled kindly. "Are you waiting on your sister?"

Alex gave her a confused look, then realized that boys didn't normally ask to try on dresses. Better explain, then. "No, I'd like to try it on. My Daddy will love me if I'm his daughter. He doesn't love me as his son."

The lady's smile grew sad, and tears gathered in her eyes. "Of course, dear. Come on, let's get that dress on."

The nice lady helped her get the dress on, as she had no idea how to do it herself, and had even pinned it up so that it fitted her better. Finally, it was done.

The woman smiled wistfully. "Go on then, give us a spin."

Alex did so, smile bright on her face.

"Come, dear, look at yourself. You look so pretty."

The young girl stood before the full-length mirror, stunned. Where a scrawny boy had stood a minute ago, a girl wearing Alex's face now stared back. She moved her arm, then stuck her tongue out at the reflection. The girl in the green dress copied the movements.

Alex's eyes were drawn to the dress itself. The green contrasted just enough against her skin, accenting her heterochromic eyes. It also highlighted the red mark on her cheek from her father, as well as the yellowish-purple of a fading bruise on her arm.

Her smile fell slightly at the sight of the blemishes, but picked back up when she reminded herself that this was the dress that would fix everything. This was the dress that would let her father love her.

Beaming, she turned to the lady. "It's so pretty! I'm Daddy's daughter, so he'll love me now!"

The lady smiled sadly at her, helping Alex take off the dress and change back into her school uniform. She rang up the purchase, accepting the small amount of change Alex had found in corners and saved for over a year. She carefully wrapped the green dress in a bag, handing it to the girl.

Alex left the store, happy as could be. Her package was held tightly in her small hands. This was the thing that would earn her love from her father.

She stood in the entrance hall of the large house, waiting for her father to return from work. The green fabric swayed around her, brushing gently on the ground.

Excitement coursed through her veins, making her bounce on her toes with the excess energy. She couldn't wait to be loved. How long had she longed for a goodnight kiss, even a simple hug? How long had she hoped for her dad to say those beautiful three words?

The front door opened. A street-lamp lit the figure from behind, leaving the man as only a silhouette. His eyes scanned the home, cold and violent. They fell on her. Neither of them moved; Alex hardly dared to breathe.

She threw herself at him, small arms wrapping around his waist. "I love you Daddy, do you love me now?"

The man remained silent, he made no movement to return the hug.

"Do you love me now that I'm your daughter, Daddy?"

The man's face slowly reddened with anger, a vein throbbing in his temple.

Alex looked up at his face, a hint of fear in the mismatched brown eyes. "Do you love me, Daddy?"

He threw her off him, watching emotionless as she hit the wall with a sickening crack, her head impacting hard enough to crack the plaster.

He dragged her up, cold blue eyes meeting hers. "No son of mine wears a dress. No son of mine is a _marci_ _ó_ _n_."

He threw her to the ground again, ears deaf to the cries of the child's pain.

"Please Daddy, don't you love me?!"

A foot met her stomach, and she screamed as pain erupted throughout her body. He didn't even hesitate before doing it again. Fists delivered swift punches, and feet mercilessly kicked her trembling body.

Eventually, he grew tired of beating her. He picked her up by her dress, ignoring her pained cries and the sounds of the green fabric tearing beneath his grip. He shoved her into her room, and locked the door from outside without a backwards glance.

She curled into a ball, whimpering as pain pooled in her stomach. Blood dribbled from a spit lip, and when she coughed, she found blood in her mouth. After she did this.

Vaguely, she could sense something was wrong. Her heart beat loud and fast, pounding in her ears. She shivered. Her body felt so cold, so utterly cold. She vaguely processed that the skin on her arms was slowly losing it's colour, acquiring a blue tinge.

Her mind started to drift, floating like a balloon. She had always liked balloons. Once, she had asked her father for one on her birthday. He hadn't gotten her one; actually, he hadn't remembered it was her birthday at all.

But that was okay. Eventually, he would love her. He would love her as she loved him, and they could be happy together. A smile split across her broken and battered face. Her last words slipped from her lips, whispered to everyone and no-one.

"I love you Daddy. I always will. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait for you."

"Will you love me, Daddy?"

~~oo00oo~~

 _Alex is quite OOC in this oneshot, or else very young and innocent. She, like most other five-year-olds, have a very rose-tinted view of the world. Her mind is set on the knowledge that her father will love her if she could just be different than she is, which leads to her idea with the dress._

 _For those of you who are less medically knowledgable and didn't diagnose Alex's death, when her father kicked her, it caused massive internal bleeding, which lead to the young child succumbing to shock due to blood loss._

 _For those of you more knowledgable than I am in any subject, and who would like to correct me on anything, please do so. I would love to hear from you._

 _Hopefully you enjoyed this (The writing, not the content. If you enjoyed the content, you may wish to seek help.), and I can't wait to read your reviews on this!_

 _~Joan McCreedy_

 _Posted 3/7/18  
_


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